


stumbling over myself (on the way to your heart)

by tolvsmol



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Barista Louis Tomlinson, Fluff, M/M, garbage writing for a garbage girl but ur the one reading it so. have fun :), it's not a fic written by me if the title isn't an ungodly amount of words, take it or leave it this is me writing abt the costar app bc i hate it, this is a very self indulgent piece of work and i will accept no criticism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-19 18:03:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19137859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tolvsmol/pseuds/tolvsmol
Summary: in which harry has a love-hate relationship with CO—STAR, the astrology app from hell that has made his life miserable. featuring a cute barista and a lot of blushing.





	stumbling over myself (on the way to your heart)

**Author's Note:**

> hi, long time no see. this is a truly mediocre piece of smth that i wrote running on three hrs of sleep so apologies for any and all mistakes. i'm working on smth of actual substance but wanted to get this out of my head and into the world bc the co—star app rlly grinds my gears and bitchslaps me every day. all notifs mentioned in the fic were real. truly hate it.  
> fic post [here](https://rosesau.tumblr.com/post/185450907216/stumbling-over-myself-on-the-way-to-your-heart).  
> title inspired by falling for you by sam pinkerton. x  
> once again i thoroughly apologize for the Garbage writing ur abt to be subjected to. forgive me for not proofreading it either

**CO—STAR**  
**Your day at a glance**  
_Has falling in love with a fantasy ever worked out well for you?_

▴▴▴

Harry stares at his screen until it dims and his phone locks itself. He got the app because Liam said he should. Liam has been delving deep into astrology lately, ever since he and Zayn went to some carnival fair where they spoke to a psychic and palmist. Zayn doesn’t care much, he’s one of those people who just go with the flow and happily please others, but Liam is different. The psychic gave him a book about astrology, which Liam accepted without much reluctance, and soon after downloaded different apps. He’s not a fanatic, per se, but he’s invested enough that it’s a genuine hobby of his. That’s probably why he told Harry to down CO—STAR. The daily notifications  looked intriguing and Harry was curious, so he downloaded the app.

It ruined his life.

He gets a notification every morning approximately twenty minutes before nine, and every morning it’s some class A horseshit about acting on his feelings or trusting his instincts or being daring or _whatever_ . There are no _instincts_ to be trusted, there is only Harry and his infatuation with the barista at Starbucks.

Harry’s been there enough to know that Louis works the morning shift on Thursday, Friday, and Sunday. There might be more days, but Harry only tends to go to the shop on those specific ones. It’s just... Louis’ very pretty. Harry doesn’t know a lot about him, hasn’t really talked to him much, but he knows Louis is _very_ pretty. There was this one day when Harry was there working on a report and it was an unusually quiet morning. Harry was working and Louis was sitting alone a few tables away, eyes on his phone, fingers tapping away on the screen, mouth red from the drink in front of him and cheeks tinted pink from something else — the heat, perhaps. Pretty in a way that shouldn’t be allowed for anyone at any time, let alone when Harry was trying to focus.

And if that wasn’t enough, Louis looked up almost as if he knew he had someone’s attention and flashed Harry a brilliant smile. A smile that could crack Harry’s spine in half and stuff it with sunshine. He was sure Louis could read that on his face.

So, yeah. Harry is infatuated with the pretty barista at Starbucks. Anyways.

He’s running like he always tries to in the morning when most of the town is fast asleep. He rarely sees more than a handful of people this early and it’s just nice. He loves when everything is quiet and the sky is a soft whisper of colors and there’s music playing in his ears and Louis’ smiling face behind his blinking eyelids. He’s changing the song on his phone again and gets distracted by the notification still on his lockscreen.

 **CO—STAR**  
**Your day at a glance**  
_Trust your instincts._

Trust _what_ instincts? That Sophie won’t prepare her part of the presentation and he should do it himself, just in case? That Niall has a crush on that nameless boy he’s spending a lot of time with lately? He doesn’t _know_ , but the three words keep staring at him and the blue of his screen makes him think of a certain pair of eyes and that’s probably why he trips over something, but before he eats shit, his head hits something warm and hard and there are strong, sturdy hands on his elbows and when he lifts his head, he finds himself staring into those blue eyes and they seem a bit amused.

It’s when Louis opens his mouth that Harry realizes he spilled his smoothie down Louis’ white shirt.  

Louis says something, but Harry can only watch his mouth move without hearing a single sound. Feeling far past embarrassed — honestly, the ground should split open and swallow him whole — he pushes the headphones off his ears and Louis’ still got his hands on Harry. He has gorgeous hands.

“I’m so sorry,” Harry rushes to apologize, “Did I hurt you?” And that’s not really something he needs to ask, they didn’t collide with _that_ much force, and Louis looks fine, but, like, wow. He’s got his hands at Harry’s elbows and they’re very nice hands. Harry wants to hold them in his own and feel the steady weight. And there’s very cold, very green slush running down Louis’ very white shirt, thanks to Harry.

“You okay, mate?” Louis asks, and there’s laughter hiding in his voice. Harry can see concern in the way his brows are furrowed, but there’s laughter in his voice and ease in the way he’s standing in front of Harry.

“I’m fine, yeah, sorry,” Harry stammers, and it’s _embarrassing_ . It’s like the cat has got his tongue and he’s making a right fool of himself in front of Louis, who keeps looking at him with those eyes glittering with barely concealed mirth. “Just got a bit distracted,” Harry says lamely and he has to look away from Louis because he can feel his face _burning_. He knows his cheeks and nose are all red and there’s nothing he can do about it right now. Or ever.

 _Trust your instincts._ His instincts are yelling at him to run as far away as possible to erase all and any memories of this mishap. And to stay here and apologize and walk with Louis and offer him a clean, dry shirt and ask him out. And also to just... go home and crawl into bed for the rest of the week. He doesn’t know which instinct he’s meant to trust.

“It’s all good, man,” Louis smiles, and at the same time lets go of Harry entirely, and that’s just the exact opposite of what Harry wants. “Don’t want you taking a fall, do we?” He says this while flicking the smoothie off of his torso and —

Fire. All Harry feels is fire in his cheeks and, God, what he wouldn’t give to just disappear. Poof. _Change the topic, just talk about something else. Introduce yourself. No, he already knows your name. Fuck, no, maybe he doesn’t remember, he sees a lot of white boys during the day, maybe just —_

“Harry?” Louis’ voice breaks through the crisis Harry can’t seem to pull himself out of, and, oh. He does remember. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” Harry says maybe a little too quickly, “I’m peachy.”

_Peachy. You’re peachy. Smooth._

“I’d say cherry red, but peachy works, too,” Louis laughs. He full out _laughs_ and it’s a glorious sound, even if it is at Harry’s expense. He wants to bottle it up and get drunk on it. “I’ve gotta get going and sort this out,” he gestures at the mess Harry made, “but I’ll see you later, yeah?”

Harry nods before the words even fully register. Louis will see him later. At the shop. Louis _expects_ to see him later. Okay. Yes.

“See you later, Louis.”

 _Trust your instincts._  

▴▴▴

When Harry goes to Starbucks a few hours later, he feels incredibly more embarrassed. It’s fairly early on a Saturday, so the shop is also fairly quiet. Harry spots Louis standing behind the counter the minute he walks inside and he can see a girl not far away. He isn’t sure if it’s Kate or Sasha. They’re identical twins and even after six months of them both working here, Harry can’t tell them apart. Before he realized they’re different people, Harry foolishly thought that one girl just went by two different names depending on the day and he puzzled over it for weeks before he saw both twins in the shop. That was the day CO—STAR asked him, “Are you afraid of being considered dumb?” That was also the day Harry decided he hates the app.

Right now, the bell chimes above Harry as he steps in and Louis looks right his way immediately, face lighting up with a smile that Harry doesn’t always does. It’s more subdued usually, softer around the edges. More reserved. Right now it’s bright enough to blind the sun. Harry knows it could. If anyone can outshine the sun itself, it’s Louis. Harry smiles back at him as he walks up to the counter and pretends to scan the menu behind Louis. As if he needs the menu. He knows this place like the back of his hand.

“Good morning,” he says and forces the residual embarrassment back. He has to trust his instincts. He can either let that one disastrous moment define his entire relationship with this hot barista or he can own up to his mistake and take control of the situation. He’s trusting his instincts.

“It _is_ a good morning,” Louis affirms with that hidden laughter of his, and they both turn their heads to window to look at the grey sky. It’s going to start pouring rain any minute now. “The usual for you?”

“The usual for me,” Harry agrees and takes his phone out. Liam texted what he and Zayn want. “I’ll always take a venti caramel macchiato with nonfat milk and one iced cappuccino with cold foam. Make that grande, please.” The girl comes out then and smiles at Harry, greeting him quietly and getting busy alongside Louis, who is punching in Harry’s order. “Could I please also have two blueberry scones, one almond croissant, and one ham and cheese croissant.”

He opens his mouth to say more, but a notification pops up at the top of his screen and the words dissolve on his tongue.

 **CO—STAR**  
**Your day at a glance**  
_You can admit your feelings today, even if they are not reciprocated._

Harry hates it. He _hates_ this bitch of an app. Why are there two notifications in one day? He turns his phone off and shoves it back into his pocket and Louis is staring at him curiously, brows raised just slightly and one hand extended towards the register like he’s waiting for an answer to a question. He probably is.

 _Great._ You’ve made a fool of yourself twice in the span of maybe four hours.

“Is that everything today?” Louis asks and Harry mentally facepalms. He _did_ miss Louis’ question the first time around.

“Yeah, that’s all for now. Thank you.”

He watches as Louis taps away at the screen in front of him, a hint of a smile tugging at his mouth. Harry pays for the food and watches as Louis and the twin (Harry still doesn’t which one, because he can’t see her name tag) work together expertly. She works getting the drinks ready and situated in a tray and Louis preps the food and the entire ordeal takes less than five minutes. Another customer comes in, so Harry steps back and lets them have their space to think in peace.

He doesn’t need to stay here today. In fact, he should be on his way back now, since Liam and Zayn are probably waiting for him. Or for their breakfast, really.

_Trust your instincts. Admit your feelings._

To be completely fair, CO—STAR has an ugly habit of just spouting useless shit that makes no sense, but this isn’t that. He knows it’s not.

“Hey, Louis,” Harry calls out before he can chicken out. Louis stops, glances at Harry and then at the employee area he was heading to, and then turns around to meet Harry.

“What’s up, mate?”

They’ve never really been on a first name basis, is the thing. Harry knows Louis’ because it’s on his name tag and Louis knows Harry’s because he has had to write it many times, but they’ve never really addressed each other that way. Until this morning, that is, when Harry was going to introduce himself and Louis called him by his name.

“Hi, Louis,” Harry says dumbly because Louis’ looking at him and he’s smiling too, a little, not knowing what to expect from Harry but he’s smiling and he’s pretty and Harry’s a little bit gone for pretty boys with the name Louis.

“Hi, Harold.”

“Just Harry.”

Louis nods. “Harold. Got it.”

“Harry Styles, actually.” Harry doesn’t even try to bite back his smile.

“That’s a pop star kinda name,” Louis muses. “I’ll be your number one fan when you make it big.”

“Biggest graphic designer in town,” Harry humors him. Louis isn’t the first person to comment on his name and he won’t be the last, but there’s something about the way Louis says it, like he really would be a big fan if Harry were known.

There’s a moment of quiet and it’s a bit awkward, just slightly, but not really, because Louis’ looking at him like they’ve known each other for ages and Harry’s starting to feel a flutter in his chest, which means his face will start burning in the blink of an eyes, so he stops biting at his lip and says, “I’m really sorry about this morning. The tripping and ruining your clothes and generally being an embarrassment to mankind, especially my mother. I got distracted by something.”

“It’s alright, Mr. Styles,” Louis laughs. “Wasn’t my shirt, actually. Have to give it back to a friend.”

“I can wash it for you,” Harry offers sincerely. Leave it to him to stain a complete stranger’s shirt without even knowing it.

“It’s _okay,_ Harry. Promise.”

“Okay, well,” Harry bites at his lip again, tugs at it with his thumb. “Since I ruined your friend’s shirt, can I at least take you out for coffee as a feeble attempt at apologizing?”

Louis’ smile widens. “Thought I’d have to ask you meself. Make it tea and you’re on.” And, okay, rewind. Ask Harry himself? The confusion must show on his face, because Louis laughs and it’s a beautiful sound. “I’ve been meaning to ask you out for a little while,” Louis goes on, maybe definitely oblivious to the blood rushing in Harry’s ears. “Just wasn’t sure how you’d react. And a bit cliched to slip you my number on a drink.”

How Harry would react. That’s for later. “You work at a Starbucks and you want to go for tea, not coffee?” Harry asks.

“Don’t tell anyone,” Louis lowers his voice, speaks in an exaggerated hushed voice when he says, “I hate pretty much every drink they offer here.”

Now it’s Harry’s turn to laugh. He has seen Louis drinking out of enough Starbucks-logoed cups to know that’s a lie. But he goes along with it, anyway, because it’s Louis and Harry just wants to get him out of this place and somewhere else. “I’ll take your secret to the grave,” he promises. “Can I pick you up after your shift ends?”

“Yes, sir, come get me at three.”

“Three,” Harry repeats. That’s hours away. Many, many hours away. “I’ll be here,” is what he says. “See you later, Louis.”

▴▴▴

Olympia’s Diner is a quaint little place that Harry has adored since he was a kid. There is not and never has been a single employee named Olympia here. The diner is owned by a lady by the name of Margaret, but she likes for her friends to call her Magpie. Harry isn’t quite sure why, but as he’s been coming here for years, he gets to call her Magpie. It’s an honor that not many have and that much is clear when she introduces herself as Margaret to Louis. Her wife, Jasmin, is here, too.

Louis orders his tea with a dash of milk and minus the sugar, which is somehow entirely in character and not at all surprising. Harry asks for a watermelon lemonade, a classic here at Olympia’s Diner, made best by Jasmin.

“It’s just so good,” Harry gushes, “I love watermelon, I get it all the time.”

“If you keeping consuming so much of it, you're gonna turn into a watermelon,” Louis says very seriously, but he can’t mask that ever present sparkle in his eye and it makes Harry laugh out loud. It’s that horrible, obnoxious, honking laugh that explodes out of him at times and it’s really not funny, but it is, the way Louis says it is funny, and Harry can’t help but laugh. “Y'know,” Louis continues, “now that I think about it, you do sort of have a watermelon shaped head. Maybe it’s too late for you to be saved, Harry Styles.”

The words are teasing and light and Louis’ ankle tangles with Harry’s under the table and Louis’ smiling that pretty smile of his that Harry adores so much. Louis’ phone vibrates on the table and Louis doesn’t pay it any attention, so Harry says, “Go on, have a look. I don’t mind.” When Louis picks it up and looks at the screen, he huffs and rolls his eyes. “What?” Harry asks.

“Nothing,” Louis says. Then he laughs a little and says, “There’s this aggravating app that makes me want to rip out my gorgeous hair every day.” He shows the screen to Harry then, and there is a string of CO—STAR notifications. _“_ _Using the rush of new love as an emotional escape is only a temporary fix,”_ says the one from yesterday. _“Say yes,”_ reads the most recent one.

Harry smiles. “Say yes, Louis.”

“To what?”

“To another, nicer date with me.”

“Yes.”

**Author's Note:**

> for the date i very nearly wrote: “they went to a cafe, harry got a watermelon drink, louis called him watermelon head, they kissed. the end.” shdksk comment ur co—star notifs if u want 💘


End file.
